The Gypsy and the Vampire 3
The Gypsy and the Vampire 3 is an encounter in Dark Dynasty Enemies * Zombie Lunatic (1235 Gold, 152 XP, 95 Energy, 7 HP) * Vampire Assassin (1235 Gold, 152 XP, 95 Energy, 7 HP) Transcript Introduction "You're a coward!" Katrina said. The thrust of her sword punctuated her words. "Oh?" Heinrich replied. Steel rang on steel as he parried. Faint echoes returned from the walls of the training hall, as though trying in vain to fill its emptiness. Only the two vampires clashed there, in the middle of the vast chamber. "Otto killed your mother, and you bend your knee to him!" Three rapid clangs followed, the vampires' blades speaking in lieu of their tongues. Their footfalls were swift yet silent, leaving only metal to give voice to their sparring. "I bend my knee to no one. But he is our markgraf. It's our duty to follow him." Katrina feinted, and tried to slip her blade past his. Heinrich's sword beat it aside. His riposte stung her cheek. The tangy scent of blood toyed with her nostrils. "And Gretchen vas the markgrafin. He took her place and her life." The vampiress' sword danced. A slit opened across Heinrich's doublet. "Among the Balval Churi, a son vould be ashamed if he didn't claim vengeance." "Perhaps. But my mother was a von Malhaven." He returned the blow before her weapon could return to parry. A red trail appeared above her right breast. "Our ways are different." "A fine excuse." Steel rang five times in rapid succession. A new wound appeared on Katrina's cheek to replace that which had already sealed itself. Its twin dripped red beneath Heinrich's left eye. "How do you think she became markgrafin, gypsy?" Katrina froze for the barest fraction of a second, struck by the question. In the next instant she was clutching a wounded hand, and her sword was clattering on the floor. "She put a wooden sword through Markgraf Kaspar's heart," he continued. "But only when enough of the family had pledged her their support." "Politics?" Katrina spat the word as though it were unclean. "The last time I spoke to my mother before her death, she made me swear an oath. The same oath Otto once swore. No vengeance. No actions that would ruin the von Malhavens and leave us easy prey for our enemies. She knew the others had gathered around Otto, and that her time had come." For several moments the training hall was silent. Then Katrina spoke. "And when Otto's time comes?" Another stretch of silence, this one longer and somehow deeper. "Pick your sword up," Heinrich said at last. "Your lesson isn't over yet." *** The din of steel on steel wars with the sound of the storm. Across the long training hall, pairs of vampires and zombies clash in too neat and orderly a fashion for it to be mortal combat. They're sparring... Hugh raises a hand enveloped in demonic fire, and moves as though to hurl the incendiary magic. You grab his arm. "Oh... Yeah..." he murmurs. Katrina said you wouldn't run into any of her minions among the zombies, skeletons, mummies, and wraiths you encountered. But she'd warned you that some of the vampires loyal to her cause might be alongside the others, lest their absence raise suspicion. So you walk into the chamber instead of attacking, then wait till awareness of your presence ripples through it and ends each mock battle in turn. "Ve vant to suck your blood!" you say. Most of the vampires frown, or narrow their eyes, or look at one another in confusion. You see a zombie scratching her head. But a few vampiric lips curve into smiles, displaying fangs. And their owners act. One vampiress thrusts her dueling dagger through the nearest zombie's eye. A male vampire in bronze-colored armor swings his sword through his sparring partner's neck. The startled look remains on the latter's face until it crumbles into dust. You take a second to lodge your allies' identities in your mind. Then you join the fray. Conclusion The zombie spins toward Rakshara, making a series of clumsy circles with his weapon, not so much wielding the sword as being pulled along by it. From the way its momentum has turned the walking corpse into a child's spinning top, it must be an absurdly heavy weapon -- one made for training purposes. It looks like it could smash a stone pillar in half. But the oroc doesn't even try to evade the sweeping length of metal. She simply steps forward and catches it on her shield. The oroc doesn't yield an inch. Instead the sword flies from the zombie's hand, its force rebuffed, leaving its wielder to spin through three more ridiculous rotations before coming to a stop. Then Rogar's Dream chops down at the crown of his head. Sharp steel, forged by one of the greatest blacksmiths to ever live, cuts through skull, brain neck, chest, and groin. Two halves of unanimated corpse fall to the floor. The bronze-armored vampire gazes at her with wide eyes and an open jaw -- making his fangs seem like little slivers of surprise. "Amazing! Imagine what you could do if you became a vampire..." "Piss off and get your own sodding woman!" Hugh says. Rakshara stares at him. So does the vampire. "I... I mean..." He looks around at the many pairs of eyes focused on him. "Why the bloody hell are we standing around here? That sodding markgraf isn't going to kill himself..." He moves across the training hall at unaccustomed speed. Rakshara gazes after him, a faint smile on her orange lips. Category: Dark Dynasty